


Yours

by PTwritesmore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Fluff, HP Femslash MiniFest, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, LGBTQ Themes, POV Ginny Weasley, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTwritesmore/pseuds/PTwritesmore
Summary: Ginny Weasley is bubbling with uncharacteristic anxiety as she meets up with an old classmate and current pen pal. Does Cho Chang feel the same way, or is it all in Ginny's head?
Relationships: Cho Chang/Ginny Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 24
Collections: Femslash February, PTwritesmore HP Femslash Collection, Plans - Scarves - Letters - Jan-Feb 2021





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HP Femslash Minifest's Jan/Feb prompt "plans - scarves - letters." Happy Femslash February! Hope you enjoy!

“Another letter?” Ron asked next to her at the breakfast table, his mouth full of food. Ginny rolled her eyes, but didn’t respond, ripping the envelope in her hands open instead. The smell of jasmine hit her and she knew instantly who it was from. But still, as soon as she saw the neat scrawl, her heart flipped.

“When did you become so close to Cho Chang anyway?” George loomed over her shoulder as he asked. She quickly clutched it to her chest; growing up around Fred and George made her extremely conscious of snooping. She threw George a glare. “I thought you two were not fans of each other due to the whole...thing,” he gestured vaguely as he spoke. 

“What thing would that be?” Ginny asked, catching Harry’s eyes over the table. He grinned at her, but said nothing.

“The whole Harry thing,” Ron said plainly, dismissing it with a lazy hand wave as he added more rolls to his plate. 

“We were teenagers,” Ginny scoffed, folding the letter carefully and putting in her pocket; she didn’t want to read it in front of her family. “Anyway, Harry has his own thing now.”

“Is that what we’re calling me?” Theo Nott asked as he entered the room, plate stacked high with Molly’s cooking. “I’d really prefer a more attractive nickname.”

“You didn’t like what I suggested,” George teased, laying his hand over his heart in mock injury. 

“Somehow I think everyone calling my boyfriend ‘Naughty Nott’ is a little too much,” Harry said. Ron wrinkled his nose. 

“I don’t want to call anyone naughty,” Ron said, shaking his head. “Bit weird. No offense,” he offered, looking between the two wizards across from him. 

“Er, none taken?” Harry answered, as Theo and Ginny both bit back a laugh. “Did Molly need any help with finishing up brunch?” Harry asked Theo, who shook his head. As the two spoke lowly about helping Molly and her brothers argued over breakfast foods, Ginny snuck a look at the clock. 11 o’clock - she was going to be late if she didn’t leave soon. 

“I have to go.” Ginny stood abruptly, pushing her untouched plate towards Ron. Hearing her mum’s humming from the kitchen, Ginny hesitated. She was avoiding talking with her mother one-on-one before she got the chance to actually see Cho; there’d be too many questions that Ginny didn’t have answers for yet. “Tell Mum bye for me?”

“Do we look like owls?” George asked, sharing an amused look with Ron. 

“Big plans?” Harry asked, prompting a wry grin from Theo. Ginny glared at the two, they knew exactly where she was going. 

“Yes, actually.” She gingerly wrapped her favorite scarf around her neck and pulled on her coat. All four boys were staring at her, waiting for her to continue. She sighed. “It’s just that this is the first time we are going to be in the same city since we started writing,” Ginny said with a shrug. “I don’t know if it’ll be weird.”

“You’re just going to fly, don’t be so nervous,” Ron offered, patting her on the back.

“Didn’t you nearly vomit before your date with Susan Bones last week?” Ginny asked, prompting laughter from the other wizards. 

“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” Ron hissed, eyeing George. Their older brother wiggled his eyebrows, making Ron groan. 

“If it is a flying date, you’re sure to impress, Miss Holyhead Harpy!” Theo said, giving her a wink from across the table.

“Thanks Naughty,” she teased, which earned her a two finger salute. “I’ll see you lot later.”

Harry grabbed her as she started towards the fireplace and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Go get her, Gin,” he said as he ruffled her hair. She leaned into him for a moment, taking in a deep breath of his familiar cedar cologne. Ginny was thankful that after their breakup a few years ago they’d been able to stay close like this.

“Thanks, Harry,” she replied, breaking their hug and waving goodbye as she stepped into the floo to pick up her broom from her flat. The cold January air chilled her to the bone on her walk to the park; Ginny shivered and pulled her scarf up as she opened the letter again. She was especially surprised to get one this morning - what if the other witch wanted to cancel their plans?

When she’d gotten her first letter from Cho seven months ago, she’d been surprised. They weren’t exactly close in school, rivals both on the quidditch pitch and for Harry’s affections. Of course, such trivialities no longer mattered when the war arrived. They’d become teammates, of a sort, in a war hardened companionship that few experienced. After the battle, now nearly six years ago, they hardly saw each other, save for the occasional fundraiser. 

So when a letter from Cho Chang appeared at the practice pitch in June, Ginny’s initial instinct was to panic. She was sure something had to be wrong for the girl to reach out to her. 

Instead, she found a lovely letter from Cho complimenting her on her performance with the Harpies, telling her she’d known since they played together at Hogwarts that Ginny would be a star. 

Ginny wasn’t sure what to make of it; this was not her typical fanmail. She dithered, wondering if she should ignore it. But Molly Weasley’s daughter couldn’t let a complimentary letter from an old classmate go unanswered, so she wrote back, asking Cho about her life and thanking her for her letter. 

A week later, she got another letter when she returned home from her second training session that day. This one detailed Cho’s adventures as a magical archeologist that took her around the world, and her favorite foods she’d tried in her travels, and her questions about playing Quidditch professionally. 

They slipped into an easy pattern, exchanging correspondence regularly. Ginny was surprised at how much she looked forward to getting a letter, how she eagerly tore each one open and read it multiple times. Their letters became more frequent, and then, three months ago, Ginny realized she was writing at least a letter a day to this witch. 

Over the course of the past six months the nature of their letters had shifted. They started formally, with “ _ Dear Ginny _ ” as the salutation and “ _ Warmest Regards _ ” as the sign off. That slowly turned into “ _ Ginny _ ” and “ _ Best _ .” Last month the sign off transitioned to “ _ Your friend, _ ” which Ginny found she didn’t like, though she struggled to explain why at first. She barely knew the woman; she should’ve been thankful Cho considered her a friend. And yet, reading that line in her letters always made Ginny’s stomach turn. 

Dodging the pedestrian traffic of Diagon Alley, she read the letter twice over. The contents were unremarkable, similar enough to their previous correspondence. But this letter was unlike the others, Ginny realized when she finished reading it. Cho had just signed it different from all the rest. 

“ _ Yours, Cho _ ”

“ _ Yours _ ,” she read again and again. Ginny flipped the letter over, looking for the missing “ _ friend _ ” she was so used to seeing. 

_ Yours _ . 

Ginny had always thought Cho was attractive. That was part of what made Ginny hate her when they were at school; she understood why Harry was so interested in the witch. Cho was effortlessly polished and classically beautiful and unapologetically feminine. She always looked put together, even on the pitch, with glossy lips and her hair pulled back into a neat french braid. 

It wasn’t just that Cho was beautiful. Cho was everything Ginny wanted to be; she was calm where Ginny was fiery, she was methodical where Ginny was impulsive, she was soft-spoken where Ginny was loud. Back at Hogwarts Ginny felt jealous bubbly up whenever she watched Harry trip over himself, awkward and unsure under Cho’s gaze. At the time Ginny was sure she wanted to be the other witch. As an adult, Ginny had come to realize what she really felt was  _ desire _ .

With every letter, that feeling came rocketing back to her. Ginny found herself thinking of Cho more and more, writing her next letter mentally during drills at practice or actually listening when Hermione recommended a book that Ginny thought Cho might like. For months, she’d wondered if she was misinterpreting the letters, yet here was “yours” staring back at her. 

As she neared the park, Ginny carefully folded the letter and put it in the inside pocket of her bag. No matter what happened today, she wanted to save that letter, to preserve it and all the feelings she had busting out of her right now. 

She spotted a woman bundled up in a fashionable navy puffer jacket on the green and had to stop herself from breaking out into a run. When the witch saw Ginny, she waved, a bright smile clear on her face. The closer she got, Ginny realized that Cho had only become even more beautiful than the last time she saw her. Tall and slim, she looked down just slightly at Ginny, her short black bob spilling out of her white hat.

Ginny stopped just short of her, unsure if they should hug. If Cho wanted them to make any contact, she didn’t initiate it. 

“Hi,” Cho said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her warm chocolate eyes melted away the chill of the wind.

“Hi,” Ginny breathed back, fighting back the building nervous energy making her want to bounce her leg.

They stared at each other. “ _ Yours _ ,” a voice whispered in Ginny’s brain. 

“You’re wearing the scarf,” Cho said finally, pointing at the blue knit around her neck.

“Oh.” Ginny looked down while she adjusted it slightly. “Yes, I love it. Thank you.”  _ Yours _ . 

“Well when I was in Edinburgh with my mum I spotted it and,” Cho paused, “I just thought you’d like it.”

Silence stretched between them, making the distance feel greater. For all the words she’d spilled into her letters, Ginny couldn’t think of a single one. 

“Thanks for inviting me out,” Cho said, lifting her broom slightly. “One on one seeking was a brilliant idea.”

“Thanks. Ready to fly?” Ginny asked, hoping that being on a broom would put her at ease. She had no issue flirting with the men she was attracted to, her bravado was a second nature. But something about flirting with women made her feel like a bumbling idiot. 

“Yes, I can’t wait,” Cho exclaimed, jumping on her broom and hovering above the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I haven’t been on a broom in so long.”

“No judgement here,” Ginny said, feeling like herself again. “With your work schedule, I’m just glad you found time while you’re in town.”

“I would’ve made the time no matter what.” Cho smiled and took off into the sky, and Ginny was left to wonder what she meant. She quickly kicked off too, releasing the snitch with a gentle toss. Cho sped off after it without hesitation and Ginny smiled, the usual adrenaline that came with flying amplified by the other witch’s company. 

The way Cho flew was poetry. She moved fast and free, writing an ode to the air, the broom her pen. Cho flitted carefully in iambic pentameter, each sudden turn a perfectly placed syllable. Ginny flew just behind her, eager to keep on the same rhythm. As Cho dove, Ginny was sure the way her heart jumped to her throat was the reaction sonnets were meant to elicit. Ginny refused to let herself remember why she knew all this about poetry, or the multiple binned drafts she’d tried to pen to Cho before Christmas.

“That was spectacular!” Cho laughed as her feet touched the ground. The cold weather left a pink dusting across her nose. “I haven’t felt that way in so long.” 

_ Me either. _

“You should fly more often, you’re amazing at it.” Ginny meant it. While she was surrounded by talented fliers, it was different to watch someone who wasn’t a professional lose themself in the air. 

“You’re amazing,” Cho replied quickly, biting her bottom lip as she smiled.  _ Yours _ . 

Ginny felt the heat in her face and knew she'd gone redder than her hair. Luckily nothing made her blush usually.  _ Usually _ . She ducked her head, looking into her bag for any excuse to avoid eye contact. 

“Are you -” Cho started just as Ginny began to ask, “Do you-”

The two witches laughed awkwardly. 

“What were you going to say?” Cho asked gesturing for Ginny to continue. 

“Do you want to go grab a bite?” Ginny asked, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“Fancy a chippie?” Cho replied. “There is a place nearby that does a bang up job.” 

A bite turned into exploring Muggle London, which turned into drinks, then dinner in the new posh restaurant in Diagon Alley. After the initial awkwardness, they fell into comfortable topics, like Quidditch and old friends. The more time they spent together, the more Ginny didn’t want this perfect day to end. Just as she was about to suggest they stop for dessert somewhere, the waiter came over with a dish they hadn’t ordered.

“Compliments of the house,” the waiter said, placing a plate of chocolate covered strawberries on their table. “The chef is a Holyhead fanatic,” he whispered before throwing Ginny a wink. The witches looked at each other as he walked away before bursting out into laughter.

“We should get these to go right?” Ginny asked, looking down at the dessert. 

“We should get you away from the chef, I reckon,” Cho teased, making Ginny snort. 

“Come on,” Ginny threw down some galleons and stood. 

“Wait,” Cho grabbed her wrist. She quickly transfigured the plate into a container. “Okay, now let’s get out of here.”

“Hermione showed me this place in Muggle London with a good view, come on.” Ginny grabbed Cho’s hand and led the way, remembering the path Hermione led them down a few weeks ago. Of course, they’d all been tipsy that night, so she just hoped she got it right. 

After a few minutes of walking Ginny squeezed Cho's hand when they reached Westminster bridge and led them to the riverbank. She reluctantly let go of Cho’s hand and popped over the short concrete wall, letting her feet hang over the edge. The brunette followed suit, her hand on Ginny’s arm to keep her balance. Sitting shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the bridge, the witches looked out at the reflection of the London Eye on the river. 

“This is beautiful,” Cho said, her eyes focused on the lights dancing across the water. 

“Yes,” Ginny agreed, sneaking a glance at Cho. “Hermione made us all ride that thing last month. But she’s afraid of heights, so she nearly had a heart attack!” The witches giggled, and Ginny beamed at being able to pull her new favorite sound from the witch. 

Cho opened up the transfigured box and offered the contents to Ginny. Dithering for just a moment, Ginny picked up a chocolate covered strawberry and ate one from behind her hand, the chocolate cracking messily as she bit into the fruit. She expected Cho to take the same approach, eating in a ladylike fashion and hiding any mess with a hand.

Instead, Cho popped the tip into her mouth and sucked delicately, the chocolate melting around her plump lips as she bit slowly into it. She repeated the process for the rest of the strawberry, making Ginny wonder how it’d suddenly grown so hot on a January night. Ginny realized she was staring, but she couldn’t make herself break eye contact. When she’d finished the strawberry, Cho wiped the chocolate from her mouth with her thumb, before sucking it off. Ginny watched the other witch’s tongue swirl around her thumb before she released it with a pop. 

“Why’d you write to me?” The question came tumbling out of Ginny’s mouth before her mind could catch up. “Originally,” she added, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“I told you,” Cho said, her dark brows furrowing. “I loved watching you play when I caught your game in May. I wanted to tell you.”

“But why a letter?” Ginny cursed herself for sounding so needy. 

“I just liked what I saw and wanted to tell you,” Cho said, looking at her from beneath her long lashes. 

“Still see something you like?” Ginny asked, pulling out her cheekiest tone. She couldn’t force her brain to focus, but hoped the flirty line came across how she’d intended it. This was her chance to make her move, before they were both traveling for work again. “ _ Yours _ ,” repeated in her mind, her heartbeat quickening the longer she gazed at Cho. 

Cho’s eyes dropped to Ginny’s lips and it felt like time stopped. Ginny leaned closer, the familiar jasmine scent enveloping her. Their lips met and they kissed softly, their movements slow and tentative. Quickly their kissing became more intense. Wanting more, Ginny threaded her fingers through the witch’s short black hair and pulled her flush to her body. Cho shifted, pushing herself closer to Ginny so their shoulders were practically one. 

Cho’s tongue was insistent, relentless, as it traced the seam of Ginny’s. As Ginny parted her lips, she realized that Cho tasted like chocolate and strawberries and too sweet wine. It was her new favorite flavor; she wanted it for every meal. They kissed with a breathless urgency that made Ginny dizzy. 

An elderly couple walked by, their low conversation breaking the magic of the moment. The two witches slowly pulled away, Cho resting her forehead on Ginny’s, her breath hot on her face. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” Cho said softly.

“Me too,” Ginny murmured. “Is it crazy that this all started with a letter?”

“If it’s crazy, I’m okay with that,” Cho said before leaning in and capturing Ginny’s lips again.

Later that night as she was wrapped up in Cho’s arms, Ginny’s mind chanted “ _ Yours, yours, yours _ ,” as she drifted into sleep. 


End file.
